How the Heavens Go: An Unlikely Story
by Majesta Moniet
Summary: This is the story of a boy and a girl. Some would call it a love story; others would call it impossible. Gabriel/Tessa
1. Before the Drought

**AN:** This story was sparked by a completely irrational love for Gabriel/Tessa, a ship that's yet to touch water. My thanks go out to Justine for the motivation and to F Elizabeth for the beta work.

_"The Bible was written to show us how to go to heaven, not how the heavens go."_ - Cardinal Baronius, cited by Galileo.

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><p><strong>How the Heavens Go: An Unlikely Story<strong>

_Before the Drought_

It was the same every night. Music, faint and yearning, pulling her from her sleep. The croon of a bow drawn along taught strings. A sound that grabbed at something deep in her belly and drew her to her feet. She should dance, she thought. Music that lovely should not be wasted. But she did not know any dances this mournful, this haunted. Her feet, at a loss of what to do, just carried her forward. Just like every night.

Jem with his back to her, white shirt hanging loosely from his shoulders like a ghost trembling in the brisk breeze from the open window and ever push and pull of his arm as it enticed poignant notes from the violin. Two candles were lit on the writing desk, neither of them enough to actually brighten the room. Instead their flickering light caught Jem's pale hair and the inky black runes just visible through his thin shirt. He was aware of her, she knew, even if he didn't turn around.

"Come here, Tessa."

She could hardly distinguish his soft prompting from the music. It was just as smooth, just as beautiful. And of course she did as he asked. It felt good to be close to Jem, as if she could reach out and take his hand without him minding. Tessa blushed even as the thought crossed her mind.

As soon as she reached Jem's side, he stopped playing, and Tessa nearly ached at the loss. The silence that followed was hallowing, but then Jem was lying aside the instrument and taking her in his arms, and she really didn't feel much but the heat of his body after that. He turned her, back against his strong chest.

It was always the same, and yet she never expected his hand to splay across her stomach and his chin to rest on her shoulder, his cheek is damp where it had rested again the wood only a moment ago. His fingers glided over her middle with all the grace of musician coaxing a ballad from his instrument of choice. Her eyes slipped closed so that there was only the touch of his hand over her dress and press of lips near her ear.

"I'm going to die," he said softly.

She knew he was right. They would all die someday, but Jem seemed closer to the edge than anyone, as if the slightest unplanned movement could send him plummeting. Tessa didn't like to think of a world that didn't have Jem in it. "Not tonight," she answered.

"No. Not tonight."

His hand had stilled, and Tessa felt the need to see his eyes and the way they were looking at her in that moment. She turned in his arms, but instead of finding Jem's silver eyes, she found the stormy blue of Will's. Before she could even reconcile her surprise, he leaned in and kissed her as if her parted lips had been waiting for him to take such initiative. Tessa lost her wits as quickly as she had the first time they'd kissed in the attic, and she found herself surrendering to his insistent hands as they tugged her closer, the space between their bodies disappearing. She kisses him with all the longing she'd been trying so hard to ignore and all the hurt she hadn't been able to hide from.

Her back came in contact with a wall, Will's heat and scent closing in around her from sides. His mouth left hers to leave a path of quick, hungry kisses along her jaw. Tessa gasped for air while her fingers curled in the dark fabric at his shoulders.

"I have to admit that I didn't think you would take me up on my offer."

Tessa shivered when his teeth graze her earlobe. "What do you mean?"

Will kissed her fiercely again, muttering against her lips, "I mean that you didn't seem the whorish type. You weren't like all the other girls who spread their legs as soon as I ask."

It felt as if her heart had gone still in her chest. Her limbs turned cold and heavy. "W-what…"

His smiled at her, amused. "It's a little late to be playing coy, don't you think?"

His fingers reached out toward her and instead of touching her chemise, they grazed the bare skin of her shoulder. Stifling a gasp of surprise, Tessa looked down to find her clothes gone, her nakedness vulnerable to Will's piercing gaze. Tessa tried to cover herself, but her hands were shaking and Will was laughing, some terrible, harsh sound that made her eyes sting with tears until she couldn't see.

She always woke up with the same sharp laughter echoing in her ears.

**[ - ] [ - ] [ - ]**

Tessa slowly made her way along the dark corridors of the Institute. The stones that normally kept the hallways lit had been extinguished several hours ago after everyone had turned in for the night. She kept one hand on the stone wall to direct her as she moved lethargically forward, her mind and steps still heavy with sleep.

The path from her room to the library was one of the few routes in the Institute she could take without getting turned around along the way. If the all the twisting and turning corridors of the Institute were its veins, then the library was its beating the heart, the place that made Tessa feel the most alive and the place she always managed to end back up in no matter where else she went.

She pulled the heavy door open and was surprised to find the room already well-lit. For a moment Tessa thought that it might already be in use, but the room was empty save for the rows of unopened books silently shouting for her attention. Tessa reasoned that Sophie must have forgotten to extinguish the lights before turning in for the night. It was perfectly likely since Sophie had had to take on a good deal of extra duties until Charlotte and Henry could find permanent replacements for Thomas and Agatha. Tessa's heart still ached at the thought of the two people who had lost their lives the night Mortmain had attacked the Institute and the loss of her brother. But it was a grief she tried not to linger on; no one else in the Institute seemed to, either.

Tessa crossed the room to the book case on the east wall, withdrawing from her pocket the small brass key she'd guilt Charlotte into giving her. When she held it, Tessa felt as if entire worlds were in her hand—people and places that only existed between the covers of books. Worlds only she had access to. It made her heart beat a little faster in her chest as she stepped onto the first rung of the ladder and began her assent to the top shelf. There was a gap three books wide—three books that were sitting on the nightstand in her room—and Tessa reached for the next one to the right.

"Careful. You might fall."

The quiet words startled Tessa into whirling around, and the hem of her robe caught beneath her slipper, causing her to slip. There was a moment of breathless terror followed by an acute pain in her shin as it banged against the step below. Her right hand just managed to snag the side of the ladder and she steadied herself against it, heart in her throat.

Gabriel Lightwood was watching from a chair by the unlit fireplace. "Are you normally this clumsy, Ms. Gray?"

"What are you doing here?" she shot back and shakily started back down the ladder while shooting glances over her shoulder. "It's late."

Only once her feet were back on solid ground could Tessa breathe easily. Straightaway she padded over to where Gabriel was relaxing in a plush chair, still wearing his clothes from the day. A book was lying open across his lap, and Tessa was half-tempted to ask after the title.

"I'm here because the library is always empty this time of night." Gabriel shot her a pointed look. "Present circumstances excluded."

"Don't you sleep?" Gabriel was always one of the first people up and about in the morning—according to Jem. Tessa was more of late riser and tended to miss everyone at breakfast aside from Jessamine, who was always insisted plenty of rest was necessary for a healthy, fair complexion.

"A little." Gabriel shrugged, and Tessa thought this was the calmest she'd ever seen him. His green eyes, which were always so intense and piercing, seemed softer here in the dim witchlight of the library. As they dipped and moved down over her form they lacked the customary severity, taking her in the way someone would appraise a piece of art they were seeing for the first time. But Tessa had never been intimidated by Gabriel and his pride—which he often wielded like a sword. So when his eyes found her face again, she met his gaze evenly.

He stared back unflinchingly, tapped his fingers twice against the book in his lap, and then looked away. "You've come uncovered."

Tessa glanced down to find that, indeed, the tie of her robe had come undone—most likely as a result of her near-slip on the ladder—and the front was hanging open, exposing the nightgown underneath. It was indecently low in the front and made of a thin cotton that might as well have been transparent for all the modesty it lent. Cheeks warm, Tessa quickly pulled the robe closed and refastened it. Tessa looked anywhere but at Gabriel. "Well, I'm—"

"And what about you?

Tessa cleared her throat. "Pardon?"

"Do you sleep?" he clarified, and it didn't take more than a moment for Tessa to realize he was genuinely curious. For all their resources, the Shadowhunters and their Clave still weren't any closer to a satisfactory explanation for Tessa's gifts. All they could agree on was that she wasn't human.

Tessa had to swallow back her bitterness before replying. "Of course I sleep. I do everything you do."

"Except I don't borrow other people's faces and thoughts."

Tessa had nothing to say to that, and Gabriel contemplated her in silence a moment longer before flipping close the book in his lap. He stood with a sigh. "If you sleep, you must dream." He walked to the nearest shelf, where the protective grate was already gaping open, and slid the book into an empty slot. "Are they nightmares, then, that have you up at this hour? I imagine that living in such close quarters with Herondale is enough to inspire night terrors the likes of which are rarely seen."

Gabriel said 'Herondale' the way most people said 'ax murderer.' Tessa tried not to say his name at all. "Not too far off the mark, actually," she muttered quietly, but the surprised look on Gabriel's face said something for the regrettably impressive acoustics of the room.

He smirked crookedly—the closest thing to a genuine smile she'd ever seen him give. "And I thought you were so fond of him. What was it you said the first time we met? Something about me owing him an apology and not being worth his time?"

"Yes, well I meant it. You were being awful." She looked away then. "But I understand now that there may have been _some_ basis for your accusations."

She felt the air move around her, and when she glanced back up, Gabriel was standing much closer than he had been a moment before. She had to lift her chin in order to look him in the eye. When he spoke, the words warmed her skin. "He hurt you, didn't he?"

"No," Tessa answered quickly, startled by the sudden furry of his gaze. "He didn't touch me. He just…"

…_broke my heart before I had the chance to give it to him._

Feeling self-conscious, Tessa tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and more hesitantly added, "He only said some very untoward things which don't bear repeating."

She expected him to step away then, to make an unsympathetic comment about the frail nature of females. But he didn't. If anything, Tessa would have sworn he'd moved closer because she was quite unexpectedly staring at his mouth. She watched it part as he spoke softly. "There's a reason he has a reputation."

Tessa nodded almost absently. "Yes, I remember something about your sister—"

"Just don't let your guard down around him," he said quickly. "He's trouble. And several other words which don't bear repeating."

He added the last bit without a trace of irony, and Tessa felt her lips quirking into a grin even though she didn't feel like smiling. She couldn't see his eyes anymore; they were standing too close, and Gabriel was too tall (no boy was_ ever _too tall). The top few buttons of his shirt were undone, revealing dark swirls of ink around the base of his neck. Tessa traced the dark runes with her eyes, following the sleek contours where they dipped beneath his collar bone and curled over a hint of toned chest before disappearing beneath starched, white fabric. There were faint scars, too—faded but just as elegant as the permanent Marks. They were exotic and strange but beautiful in some fundamental way.

Gabriel's voice came from somewhere near her ear. "If you don't have plans to sleep, how do you intend on passing the night?"

"In bed." Tessa felt Gabriel's sharp inhale, and she was glad he couldn't see her heated face as she hurried to add, "Reading that is. It soothes me. It will help me fall asleep eventually."

She told herself she should move then. She should step away, retrieve the book she came for, bid Gabriel goodnight, and make the most dignified exit she could yet manage. It was ridiculous for her to be here with him, alone, at night, barely dressed, and standing as close they were. If someone were to walk in on them like this, they'd assume the worst _Wrongly_ assume the worst.

Tessa stayed exactly where she was.

"I have a more effective solution." He shifted then, his body brushing against hers as he reached a hand inside his unfastened jacket. Tessa found herself battling the temptation to press closer, to close that last inch between them. It became quite hard to breathe and think at the same time.

Something smooth was pressed into her hand, and Tessa looked down to find a slim glass vile filled with a milky, blue liquid.

"What is it?"

"A sleeping drought."

The glass was still warm with his body heat, and Tessa wondered how long he'd been carrying it around. She craned her neck to look at him, her nose nearly bumping his chin. "But aren't you going to use it?"

"This way we'll both make use of it." His eyes fell away from hers and slid almost subconsciously to her lips, where they lingered. "You take the drought, and I'll sleep better knowing you managed to get some rest as well."

Tessa felt something like a tightening in her chest, an aching awareness that sent goose bumps down her arms and prickled the back of her neck. Her heart beat faster, her lungs burned from lack of air, and all she could see was Gabriel's face hovering above her, still and unwavering. Unmoving.

_If he would only _move.

"Goodnight," he said quietly. "Tessa."

She stared back, waiting—hoping—for something she could only think of as _more_. She saw it there, barely contained in his soft eyes and parted mouth. But then Gabriel stepped away, leaving her with nothing but the vile in her hand and the cold that rushed to her in his absence.

As she struggled to force out a strangled 'goodnight,' Gabriel turned his back and walked to the nearest witchlight. He extinguished it with a single touch.

Tessa left the library, fingers held to her burning lips.

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><p><strong>AN:<strong> This fic is a oneshot, but I have the story marked as incomplete because there's a chance I'll be updating it with more oneshots that occur in this little universe. If that happens, I'll probably change the summary but leave the title as it is. Feedback is appreciated, and if you're interested in reading more Gabriel/Tessa, let me know. :)


	2. Beneath a Mask

**AN:** This oneshot is my Gabriel/Tessa spin on the Clockwork Prince DSBS, which Cassie has given us a snippet of. The released excerpt _is_ included in this story, **SO IF YOU DON'T WANT ANY CP1 SPOILERS, DON'T READ**. This oneshot takes place in the same little Gabriel/Tessa universe as the previous one, which is why they're posted here like sequential chapters.

Thank you, Justine, for the beta work. :)

_"The Bible was written to show us how to go to heaven, not how the heavens go."_ - Cardinal Baronius, cited by Galileo.

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><p><strong>How the Heavens Go: An Unlikely Story<strong>

_Beneath a Mask  
><em>

Tessa was surprised to arrive at breakfast and find the table so well attended. It was just past ten, the time Tessa was accustomed to leaving her room in the morning and the time most Shadowhunters were already up and about trying to hit each other with swords and various other sharp objects—"training" they called it. But this particular morning nearly everyone was present in the dining room and still seemed to be fighting off the remaining vestiges of sleep.

Although, there was one notable exception.

Jem stood when he saw Tessa enter and kindly pulled out the chair beside his. She took it with a gracious smile, her gaze then falling to the vacant seat on her other side. "Good morning, Jem. Good morning, Charlotte. Jessamine. Will. Henry." She acknowledged them each with a nod, although Will didn't look up from the day's paper to see the gesture.

Henry and Jem were the only ones to return her greeting with any amount of enthusiasm.

"I hope the expedition last night went well." She knew they called it a 'hunt,' but the term made Tessa think of dogs, and rifles, and woods, which was entirely inaccurate.

"It was a lengthy pursuit," Henry began quickly before anyone else should get a chance to speak on the subject, "which would have been much shortened had I only remembered my witchlight enhancer. It was quite dark…"

"And a complete waste of time." Had it not been for this ill-tempered comment, Gabriel's entrance into the dining room would have gone unnoticed by Tessa. His boots made no noise as they treaded the oriental area rug until he came to a stop just over Tessa's shoulder. "There were no clockwork creatures in the tunnels, nor any indication that anything other than indecently sized rats had _ever_ been down there."

Gabriel fell into his customary seat, a thick envelope dropping carelessly from his fingers onto the table. It _just _missed Tessa's plate, and landed in a small spot of gravy. Instinctively, Tessa took up the envelope and did her best to wipe it clean.

"You've been invited to my family's annual Masquerade."

Tessa looked up sharply from the elegant parchment. "I have?"

Gabriel went about filling the plate in front of him, bypassing the poached eggs in favor of sausage and toast. "The invitation is extended to all residents of the Institute,"—his eyes flickered darkly to Will—"esteemed or otherwise. It will be held at our manor in a week this Friday."

Jessamine huffed a sigh, already looking terribly inconvenienced by the whole ordeal. "The only thing worse than Shadowhunters gathering to discuss killing things is Shadowhunters gathering under the pretense that they're _not_ going to discuss killing things—and then discussing it anyway." She dabbed a dainty cloth at the corners of her lips. "Still, I suppose it will make decent practice for an occasion of real significance."

Beside her, Will finally set aside the paper. He nonchalantly reclined in his seat. "It's a shame I have already arranged scintillating plans for that evening—"

"Not at all," Gabriel muttered loud enough to be heard.

"—but I'm sure Helga won't mind rescheduling." Will's smile was a poorly kept secret. "Germans, I have found, are quite…flexible."

Henry coughed into his cup of coffee, the sound not quite loud enough to drown out Charlotte's noise of disapproval. "Honestly, Will. Isn't there anything that could entice you to decency for _one_ meal?"

"Enticement. Another fine virtue of the German lady—"

"You're quite generous with the term 'lady,' Herondale." Gabriel had paused in cutting his breakfast in order to send Will a disdainful glare. "It's an offense to the ladies present."

Will's blue eyes skipped straight to Tessa. "My. Have I offended your sensibility, Tess?"

She wished he hadn't called her that. Because all she could think about was the time he _did_ offend her, and it sullied the usual satisfaction of hearing her name shortened on his lips. She found herself paralyzed with something akin to mortification at the memory.

"You offend me," Jessamine replied in her stead. "Tirelessly."

It was a long moment before Will turned his rap stare from Tessa. "Jess, the _tablecloth_ offends you."

"I just don't understand why it must be so _orange_. It's garish, really."

Something warm brushed against Tessa's elbow, but when she looked over, Gabriel was folding a napkin across his lap, face twisted in an expression of abhorrence. She considered him for longer than was cursory, but he either didn't sense her scrutiny or chose not to acknowledge it.

Just as she returned to her quickly-cooling breakfast, Gabriel's gruff voice filled the space between them. "Do you have a dress suitable for the occasion?"

**[ - ] [ - ] [ - ]**

The house was called La Guardia and had been in the Lightwood family for four generations. Tessa only knew this because there was a man standing by the fountain who had had too much champagne, and any time someone was careless enough to dally near him, he mentioned this fact. Tessa had been caught unawares twice, and it was still early in the evening.

With a tactful excuse, she left him to find another a more willing victim and moved away towards the other end of the large hall. She felt clumsy skirting the throng of dancers, who swept across the floor like skaters on ice. Jessamine had been correct. Everyone in attendance was a Shadowhunter—with the exception of the servers and one or two ladies who Tessa thought may be warlocks—and everyone moved with the same practiced grace. Even the strains of violin and cello seemed to intermingle more smoothly than any music she'd heard previously. This, coupled with the elegant décor and company, distinguished the ball as the finest party Tessa had ever attended.

She felt as if she could very well lose herself in the sea of masks.

Every other step had her fingers itching to tug at the top of her bodice—which was a beautiful cut Jessamine had insisted on without consulting Tessa's more practical tastes. The lace trim tickled the exposed skin of her chest all the way up to her shoulders, which were shining with the dampness of perspiration. The confines of the room, the number of bodies, and the warmth of the champagne had Tessa resenting the heaviness of her dress, which she felt was in danger of falling off her altogether.

She stopped by the grand staircase which led to the room's tiered second floor. At a loss of what to do with herself, Tessa turned her gaze upon the crush, sweeping over the crowd of unfamiliar faces until she managed to spot two she knew quite well. Will was propped up against one the pillars, a rogue smile quirking his lips beneath the devilish red and black of his mask. He was talking to two young women Tessa could only see from the back. Jem was—rather strategically, she thought—standing just to Will's side, well within shaking distance should Will need to be saved from himself.

Uncharitably, Tessa wished that Jem weren't such a good friend, so that he might have abandoned Will and offered her some company instead. It certainly didn't seem as if _Will_ was in danger of lacking companions that evening.

"I pity James,"—a familiar voice came from over her shoulder—"having to suffer William's presence so thoroughly for the rest of his life." Gabriel lazily descended the final steps of the staircase and swung around to face Tessa. He didn't stand so close that she had to crane her neck to meet his eyes, and for that Tessa was grateful. "At least Herondale can't have long to live. At the rate he's going, he won't even see the age of majority."

He didn't sound at all displeased by the possibility.

"You say the most awful things."

"It's not a matter of being awful, it's a matter of being correct. Which I am."

Tessa shook her head, but Gabriel missed the gesture as he turned to collect two glasses from the tray of a passing servant. She used the opportunity to take in his imposing figure, from the polished boots, to the black suit with gold runes embroidered on the trim and sleeves, to the green and gold half-mask. He was dressed handsomely for the occasion. The Lightwoods were _always_ dressed handsomely, but with Gabriel it was somehow different. It was as if that he was so handsome himself that everything he wore naturally took on the quality as well.

She accepted the flute of a rosy pink liquid that he offered her. It wasn't the champagne she had been drinking before. There were no bubbles, only a deep color and sweet aroma.

"It's _rougir_," he answered her unasked question. An inexplicable shiver crept up her spine as his voice dipped effortlessly over the French word. "A Nephilim secret. Try it."

"You can't just _order_ me to—"

He shrugged. "Then don't."

"I only mean that there's a nicer way of saying things." Tessa frowned. "You could suggest that I try it instead of commanding me in all your superiority."

Gabriel raised an eyebrow. "It would make that much of a difference to you?" She inclined her head in the affirmative, causing him to scoff and glance away. Nonetheless, a moment later he was sighing and saying, "The _rougir_ is excellent. You should consent to try it."

Tessa couldn't help a small grin of victory before taking a tentative sip from her glass. Light. Sweet. A tart aftertaste that lingered on the tongue. "It's quite good," Tessa admitted. She wasn't a connoisseur by any means, but she knew what she liked and what was meant for those with stronger constitutions than hers.

"I told you it was." Gabriel sounded close to exasperation.

"And now I know for myself." Tessa took another sip. "You see. A little bit of charm can get you far."

Gabriel held her gaze over the top of her glass. "You look charming tonight."

She lowered her drink. "Thank you," she said and meant it earnestly, "for the compliment and for the mask. It's beautiful." She consciously raised a hand to touch the elaborate satin disguise Gabriel had provided her upon learning she didn't have one of her own to make use of. It was one of his mother's, she knew, but she had been surprised by his generous consideration all the same.

In lieu of a response, Gabriel downed the rest of his owl glass of _rougir_—which was nearly half-full.

Tessa raised her eyebrows. "You know, there—"

Gabriel sucked in a sharp breath that hissed past his teeth.

"What?" She followed his gaze to where it was focused over her shoulder, but all she saw was the churning mass of well-dressed Shadowhunters.

"My mother is coming this way," he muttered and almost sounded…alarmed.

"Oh. Well, shouldn't I thank her? For the lending me the mask?" Tessa's eyes fell on a tall, narrow woman with an impressive amount of blonde hair coiffed atop her head. She was moving—slowly—in their direction, smiling at everyone she passed and briefly exchanging words with more than a few of the guests. There was something of Gabriel's likeness in her high cheek bones and straight nose.

"Absolutely not." Gabriel grabbed Tessa's hand, and she was too surprised by the gesture to resist him as he began leading her up the staircase. "Never let my mother know you're in her debt. She'll never forget it."

"But doesn't she know that I'm borrowing it?" For a brief moment Tessa felt a sort of horror at the thought that Gabriel had taken the mask without his mother's consent. It was quickly stifled, though, by the bob of Gabriel's head—which she could only see the back of as they continued to climb the steps.

"Yes," he said, "but you've got to act as if it doesn't matter, as if it was expected for her to give it to you. Or, better yet, act as if you did a favor for her first, and the mask is the equalizer. It's better that you were the first one to be generous."

"But I _didn't_ do anything for her."

He stopped and turned to Tessa when they'd reached the second floor. "Well, don't let _her_ know that."

It was not as crowded up here, away from the dancing, food, and drinks. The music took on a distant quality, as if she were hearing it through a closed screen. Gabriel didn't release his hold on her hand, and Tessa could now feel his warmth beginning to seep through her glove. No one paid them any heed as he led down one length of the room and around a corner.

Gabriel paused before a set of heavy white curtains, which he pushed aside to reveal a pair of glass-paned doors. Beyond them was the darkness of night.

Tessa warily watched as Gabriel grasped a brass handle and pushed one of the doors open.

"Well, come on." He jerked his chin toward the opening. Tessa sighed but acquiesced, stepping out onto a wide balcony, Gabriel a step behind her. Only when they were both through did he drop her hand and turn his attention to the doors, which he made certain were securely shut. He even gave the handles a solid shake as if to measure the likelihood of the doors being run down.

"What's all this about?" Tessa crossed her arms. Although there was no cold to stave off—the night was unseasonably warm—there was the matter of keeping her mounting frustration at bay.

"I thought we could both do with some fresh air." He didn't attempt to sound convincing as he crossed to the railing and rested against it. "Just ten, maybe fifteen minutes. By then she'll have—we'll have freshened up enough to return to the party in livelier spirits."

She considered walking back inside without another word, but really that would only end in her standing somewhere and feeling out of place. At least out here there wasn't a need to be so conscious of her posture or the state of dress. So she joined him at the railing, setting aside her empty flute and bracing her forearms against the smooth stone.

Beneath them was the extensive property to the rear of La Guardia—orderly grass that eventually gave way to disorderly paths, which twisted through a pretty garden. At the center of it all was a large fountain, the details of which Tessa couldn't make out from this distance and under the cover of night. But the sound of running water was unmistakable.

"I understand that _you_ are hiding from your mother," she said finally, "but what am I doing out here?"

"You," he said, not looking away from the moon, "you are evidence."

"The mask, you mean?" She carefully removed the article in question and immediately felt the relief of a gentle breeze against the heated, damp skin of her face. She hadn't realized how stifling it had been.

"You _in_ the mask, more precisely."

"Your mother can't be all that awful. I'm not afraid of her."

"She's not awful." Gabriel crossed his arms. "She's bloody meddlesome though."

Tessa's mouth fell open. "She's your mother!"

"Which makes her twice as prying where I'm concerned." He scowled. "You know, she still holds 18 hours of childbirth over my head on a daily basis?"

Tessa laughed. "Who would have guessed? Gabriel's Lightwood's greatest fear is his dear mother."

Gabriel straightened and squared his shoulders. "I'm not afraid of my mother."

Tessa righted herself as well. "You're only hiding from her on a balcony while your party is going on inside."

"I'm not hiding me; I'm hiding you. And you could stand to be a little more grateful."

"You're ridiculous."

"And you're selfish."

Tessa gaped at him. "I am not! You're the one who's so self-important all the time with the way you look down on everyone."

Gabriel's eyes flashed. "This coming from someone who passes judgment on others within the five minutes of knowing them."

"Sometimes first impressions are quite telling." She raised her chin defiantly.

"Yes,"—he stepped toward her—"I could sense you were a shrew the moment you first opened your mouth that day I met you.

"A shrew!" Tessa's hands clenched painfully around the edges of the mask. "You're the most crude and tactless man I've ever met."

"_I'm_ tactless?" he echoed incredulously.

"Quite so!" She stepped forward, on the offensive now. "And terribly disagreeable. Most of the time," she amended hotly.

"Terribly disagreeable _most of the time_." He bit out a humorless laugh. "Oh, well then—"

"Yes! Actually, you're rather a lot like Will in that regard—"

The dark, mutinous look that stole across Gabriel's eyes stopped Tessa's words in her throat. That she could see his rage brimming over from beneath the barrier of his mask spoke to its vehemence, and it crowded Tessa's chest with apprehension. His voice shook when he spoke.

"Take it back."

"Wh—"

He paced towards her, the space between them vanishing. She had to crane her neck meet his ferocity head-on. "I am _nothing_ like him."

The words dripped with poison.

And as if she weren't standing there bearing the brunt of his fury but an entire world away, her mind wandered back to another encounter. She, rather inappropriately, thought of the library, and the night she had encountered him there, and the _almost_ that she had tried to forget. She could recall perfectly the way he had stood before he like he was now, close enough to touch but too distant to be touchable. The way her lips had burned all the way book to her room…

But _this_ Gabriel was different.

He lowered his face towards her. His voice softened to a murmur. "He'd probably kiss you right now."

_Will_, she told herself. _He means Will._

"Just once," Gabriel continued. "And then maybe he would ask you into his bed. But he's already done that, hasn't he?"

Tessa was frozen, lips and limbs paralyzed, and couldn't bring herself to move even when Gabriel brushed a loose strand of hair from her face.

"That's not what I would do."

It was then she realized he meant to show her.

His nose grazed hers, and then his lips touched her lips. He was kissing her, and she was letting him. His mouth was soft, tentative, but warm like mouths were meant to be. It felt _good_ to be touched like this, and she began to fear that he might stop, so she closed her eyes and kissed him back. One of his hands settled on her waist, steadying her and drawing her closer at the same time. The other took the mask from her limp fingers. A moment later it clattered against the floor.

Tessa didn't see where it landed.

His mouth pressed harder against hers, more insistent than before now that he had her encouragement. Her freed hands found his shoulder and felt the tension of the muscles working beneath her touch. She stumbled clumsily into his chest. When Gabriel's mouth suddenly abandoned her, she was left feeling flushed and disoriented. But he was only gone as long as it took to suck in a breath of air, and then he was back, twice as fervent. His fingers were in her hair, tugging relentlessly at any pins they encountered until she felt the waves tumble about her shoulders. She felt lightheaded.

He reached up and unlocked Tessa's hands from around his neck. He drew her gloves off, and they joined her mask and the hairpins on the stone floor of the balcony. He pulled off his own mask next and cast it aside, running his hands through his sweat-dampened hair, pushing it back from his forehead. The lower edge of the mask had left marks across his high cheekbones, like light scars, but when she reached to touch them, he gently caught at her hands and pressed them down.

"No," he said. "Let me touch you first."*

She might have nodded, but it was impossible to be aware of anything in that moment but feel of his fingertips skimming her jaw. His touch was soft and wandering. He traced the curve of her chin before falling to her neck, her clavicle, the neckline of her dress. At that point, Tessa lost all patience and rose onto her toes so that she was kissing him again. He quickly acquiesced and turned them so that she was backed against the balcony railing and completely at his mercy.

She felt as if she were learning a great deal of things a great deal too quickly. The heat of his mouth. The texture of his tongue against her. The sound he made when her hands slid past his jacket. The shape of his chest beneath her palms. The pleasing sting of his teeth against the tender skin behind her ear. The sound _she_ made when he leaned his body against hers.

It was dizzying, and wonderful, overwhelming in way she couldn't get enough of. She began to suspect that there couldn't possibly be a logical end to it, that they would have to go on kissing like this until they either fainted from exhaustion or the world ran out of air. But then his touch turned less frantic, slowing to a mere caress along her back. And his mouth softened against her abused lips until they were trading slow, wet nips and touches.

Her heart was still beating frantically as he pulled back. Her eyelids still felt heavy as they took in his tousled hair and flushed cheeks. Gabriel was peering down at her and looking quite out of sorts.

"Will you dance with me?"

Her arms tightened around his neck. "What…I don't understand."

"Will you dance with me?" he repeated, and this time glanced toward the balcony doors. "I can have them play any song we like."

She looked at his open, unguarded face and then down at the mask, gloves, and hairpins scattered about their feet. The taste of _rougir_ was gone from her lips. "Well…alright."

* * *

><p>*This line of dialogue and the preceding paragraph were written by the lovely Cassandra Clare.<p>

**AN:** There was such an amazing response to the first oneshot that I had to write another. And, really, it's just beyond wonderful that so many people have a fondness for Gabriel/Tessa. I love it. :3


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